


Toil and Trouble

by The_Winter_Straw



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Comedy, F/M, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, Romance, fic trade response
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-23 00:39:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18538756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Winter_Straw/pseuds/The_Winter_Straw
Summary: Fred and George's most recent joke product causes unexpected results.Fred and George Weasley/Reader





	Toil and Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> I'm in the process of moving old stuff from my Lunaescence Archives profile. If you see anything wrong AT ALL with my tags or the like, PLEASE let me know. I do not mean to get in the way of you seasoned AO3-ers! 
> 
> Anyway, I thought I'd start out posting my most frequently stolen one shot. The amount of times I have found this on FF.Net with the [Name]s replaces is astounding. It's not all that great, now I'm reading and editing it in seven years in the future, but it will always have a special place in my heart. This was written for a fic trade on Lunaescence back in 2011. The prompt was "When I drink you in, I can't breathe you out."
> 
> Note: I am not British. I did get a British friend to beta this for me at the time, so hopefully all the British-isms get a pass.

When you walked into the sixth years’ boys’ dormitory that evening, it wasn’t to find what you expected. During all your years at Hogwarts, it was normally the one place you could count on to be full of activity no matter what the hour. From wild laughter to ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs,’ from snapping fireworks to the occasional muffled cries of various magical beasts, Fred and George Weasley’s room was definitely never quiet. You could bound in at four o’ clock in the morning and you doubted you’d wake either of them up (their roommates, having learned to sleep through their various noises, were another story entirely).

That night, however, it was so quiet you almost turned around and walked straight back out the door, so certain you were that you’d somehow got the wrong room. It was completely silent and nearly empty. The only movement was coming from a small fire lit in the center, on top of which was a potion spewing copious amounts of silvery smoke. There was no way that Fred and George would send a terrified first year to find you in the common room and drag you up here for _this_. But over the large simmering cauldron sitting in the middle of the floor were two identical red heads that could belong to no one but your two best friends.

“Um, guys?” you said as the door swung shut behind you. “You wanted to see me?”

Both boys looked up, grinning. The light of the fire caused shadows to dance across their faces, making them look, if anything, all the more devious than they normally did. They spoke at the exact same time. “Good evening, [Name].”

“Right…” You trailed off, cocking your head at the pearly potion bubbling beneath them. Normally they only had you up here for things that were half-finished–like that time their Fever Fudge worked so well they’d nearly flooded the room with sweat. “And you called because…?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” George said in mock-affronted tones. He gestured toward the cauldron. When he spoke again, his voice was low, an excited hiss. “Fred and I–we’ve finally done it!”

“…Done what?” You wracked your brains, trying to remember if any of the products they’d been discussing lately had anything to do with potions. Nothing came to mind. You could have sworn at last discussion they’d still been trying to iron out their Puking Pastilles. Thankfully, Fred showed his usual knack for answering any unasked questions you may have had.

“You remember that we were going to sneak into Snape’s office last night?”

“You weren’t sneaking. You had detention. _Again _.”__

____

____

Fred poked your nose, smirking. “All part of the plan.”

You deadpanned and pushed his hand away, trying all the while to ignore the flush you felt in your cheeks. “What plan?”

“To steal the last few ingredients for our Amortentia,” George said. He patted the side of his cauldron fondly. “Which we managed, no thanks to you.”

“I had detention with McGonagall last night. You know I would have been right there with you if I hadn’t.”

“Lines.” Fred sniffed dismissively. “ _We_ had to pickle grindylow fingers.”

“Big deal. I’ve already done that twice.” You were stung that either of the twins would think you wanted to skip out another one of their infamous plans. But you couldn’t show them that or they’d just take the mickey out of you longer.

“Well, Snape said you had to make up your detention tomorrow, so I suppose we’ll forgive you just this once.”

“Thanks…” You squinted at the potion. Something George said was ringing some sort of bell in your head. You listened for a few seconds, and then: “Wait! You’re making a _love potion_?”

“A little slow on the uptake this evening, aren’t we?” said George. “Ah, well.” He jabbed at the bubbling liquid with his wand and several more curlicues rose from the steam. “You can still help us.”

Your fingers wrapped around your wand. “Help you _how_?”

George leaned back, an innocent smile playing on his features. “What does this potion smell like to you, [Name]?”

“ _Should_ it smell like something?”

“Haven’t you been paying attention in potions at all lately, dear [Name]?” Fred asked.

“No.” You frowned. “And normally neither would you guys. What’s with the sudden interest? Not actually wanting to gain an N.E.W.T. now, are you?”

“Worrying about your grades never hurts,” George said firmly. “Something you might want to take into account. You barely scraped by your O in the subject, didn’t you?”

“You two will be worried about your grades when Umbridge stops crushing on the Minister of Magic,” you muttered as you stuffed your fingers into your armpits, " _and_ that was practically the only O.W.L. you both got.”

“Just answer the question,” Fred said.

“I’ve already told you; it doesn’t smell like anything.”

“Nothing at all?” Fred and George exchanged some sort of look and the latter pushed you so that your face was hovering right above the fumes wafting from the potion. You sighed.

“Still nothing.”

“You mean that this room doesn’t smell any different to you at all?”

You shook your head. “It smells like it does whenever you guys make me come up here. You know, boys. Not that it’s a pleasant smell, really.”

George and Fred caught each other’s eyes again and, for a moment, just stared at each other. You huffed and waited for this "twin moment" to pass. After six years, you were used to their silent communication, but that didn’t mean you had to like it. Finally, a slow smile spread over each of their faces.

“Excellent!” Fred slapped you on the back. “Really excellent!”

“What’s excellent?”

“Never you mind,” George said, with a firm hand against your back as he guided you toward the door. “We got what we wanted.”

“But what did you want? I didn’t–”

“Thank you, [Name]!” Fred said loudly, just as George shoved you out the door so hard that you stumbled several steps and only spun around in time to see each of them, wide smiles plastered on their faces, wave to you before they snapped the door shut.

You scowled at the wood for several moments, then rolled your eyes and shuffled off down stairs to the girls’ tower. “See you in the morning," you said to no one.

******

Breakfast the next day was not the usual affair. The twins might not care about getting to class on time, but you still retained some of the educational desires that you’d brought with you to Hogwarts before meeting with them. As it was, it wasn’t like them to not pop up as you were exiting through the portrait hole. You frowned behind yourself the entire way to the Great Hall and paid no attention as you grabbed the first seat available at the Gryffindor table. You arrived just in time to see the great cloud of owls rush in with the morning mail.

“M-Morning, [Name].” You looked up to see Fred and George’s brother yawning at you from across the table. You flashed him a smile before starting the task of finding something to eat for breakfast. A large bowl of porridge caught your eye. You reached for it.

“Good morning, Ron,” you answered absently. “Harry, Hermione.”

“…Hey, aren’t Fred and George normally with you?” You blinked back toward Ron, who looked half-curious, half-relieved. You spooned some of the porridge into your bowl before responding:

“Usually…I haven’t seen them this morning, though. Do you need me to go back to the common room and see if they’re skiving off?”

“No!” Ron said, a little too hastily. You glanced at him curiously and his ears turned red as he ducked underneath the table.

“The Quidditch match against Hufflepuff is coming up,” Harry informed you, his face morose.

“Ah,” was all you said to that. You’d heard enough complaints from Fred and George to get into it with the fifth years. Besides, Umbridge was smirking down from the head table at that moment, and you were sure that, if you joined in complaining about their dismissal, she’d take it as an excuse to ban you from every match for the rest of your life. It didn’t much matter anyway. Almost two seconds later, Ron got up, his cheeks still flaming.

“We’re going to be late for Herbology,” he said. Hermione and Harry glanced at each other (classes didn’t start for twenty minutes), but shrugged and followed him as he rushed out into the hall. You refused to meet Umbridge’s eyes and instead focused on buttering some toast. If Fred and George really were skiving off without you, it was going to be a long day. Double Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, _and_ Snape’s detention. You’d see Lee in Umbridge’s class, but some comfort that was. It wasn’t as if you’d be allowed to talk to him.

“Good morning, [Name].”

Suddenly two bodies were on either side of you, pressing very close. You dropped your toast onto your plate and the knife fell onto the table with a clatter. Fred and George, however, did not move. Confused and admittedly slightly worried, you looked from one to other. They were positively beaming. You squirmed in an attempt to get them out of your personal space, but, when nothing happened, you were forced to wrench your arms free just so that you could get back to your toast.

“What took you two?”

“Oh, nothing,” Fred said faintly, “nothing.

“Uh-huh. Well, good thing you made it. You’re not going want to go to Potions on an empty stomach.”

“We’re not hungry," said George.

This caught your attention. “Not hungry?” You looked toward George. Despite having been smiling when he first arrived, he was now pale-faced and refusing to meet your eyes. “What’s wrong you guys? Are you sick?”

“No…” This time it was Fred who spoke. As his voice drifted across your shoulder, you distinctly felt him grab a tendril of your hair and rub it between his fingers. You flipped back around, blushing to your hairline.

“What are you doing?”

Fred quickly dropped your hair, looking as if he wasn’t sure what he was doing either. As soon as this was done, someone’s finger brushed against the shell of your ear. With your face now resembling a tomato, you turned back to George. He frowned at your expression and put his hands on the table.

“Sorry.”

You said nothing. The three of you ate in silence (well, you ate; Fred and George just poked glumly at some sausages) until Fred broke the silence.

“So, there’s a Hogsmeade trip this weekend,” he twiddled with his fingers, “and we were wondering if…if…” He took a deep breath and said very quickly, “You wanted to go with us.”

You lifted your eyebrows and frowned at him. “I always go with you.”

“Well, yes…” Fred threw a hopeless look at George who gave a small twitch of his head. Fred took yet another deep breath. “But…differently this time.”

“Different how?”

At these words, Fred did something very strange: He blushed. As soon as he did, you realized what was going on. You tossed your second slice of toast onto your plate and balled your hands into fists.

“You’re making fun of me,” you said in a quavering voice. “I already apologized for missing Snape’s detention, but you’re still making fun of me.”

“What? No!” Fred and George looked at each other again, this time clearly saying ‘Abort, abort!’ Still, they were both known to be good actors. You continued to stare at your golden plate as you waited for your furious tears to abate.

“[Name].”

You did not answer.

“[Name]? Come on, [Name], we didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Sure. Right,” you said, and were pleased to find that your voice had returned to its normal, level self.

“You know,” George said as he slung his arms over your shoulders. This time you dropped your toast entirely out of shock, rather than suddenly losing the feeling in your fingers. “You could be a bit more excited to see us.”

“I agree, George.” And now Fred’s arm was around you as well. If your bread wasn’t good and toasted before you got to it, it would be now due to its proximity to your burning face. “After all, we did do it for her.”

“Did what?” A sickly sweet voice from behind you said. The three you of turned slowly on the spot to see Professor Umbridge, as toad-faced as ever, leering at you.

“None of your business,” Fred answered. His face had changed quite drastically to one of great loathing. Umbridge did not so much as a flinch. You had to give her credit–you would run away screaming if one of the boys looked at you like that.

“Detention, Mister Weasley,” Umbridge said without looking at him and then continued in one breath. “May I remind you that you are already on thin ice after your little fight last week on the quidditch pitch? Do not press your luck!”

Fred and George looked mutinous, but did not, as you knew they wanted to, retort. Her grin grew larger.

“Now what were you just telling Miss [Last Name] that you did for her? Could this have something to do with all of those horrid illnesses that keep cropping up in my classes? Hm?”

“We don’t have anything to do with those,” George said. “Maybe they should go see Madam Pomphrey. Or you should just leave.”

“Yeah,” Fred agreed. “You said yourself last week our grades were so terrible you were going to expel us first chance you got. How could _we_ make something that did anything that impressive?”

“Detention for you as well, Mister Weasley. And you, Miss [Last Name].”

“What?” Fred and George snapped and pushed you backward so that they were sitting protectively in front of you. You blinked and squirmed, trying to see Umbridge’s expression over the twins’ shoulders. “[Name] didn’t do anything!”

“I wouldn’t be too sure,” Umbridge sang. “After all, whatever the three of you are planning, I’m sure it will be against the rules. And double detention, for correcting me.”

With that she swaggered off. Despite yourself, you could feel angry tears stinging at the back of your eyes again. Snape was going to be livid. Fred and George did not seem to notice your mood as they made several mad grabs for the quickly disappearing breakfast foods. At least the run in with Umbridge had returned their appetites.

“Old cow,” George said.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it, [Name], we’ll make sure–[Name]?”

“What?” you asked without looking at either of them. You felt George place his hand on your shoulder.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine!” you said, but your tone was too hysterical to fool them. Normally detention wouldn’t be a big deal, but Fred and George were being horrible and Umbridge’s were always ten times as horrible as anything Snape could dream up–and you’d probably be doing double detention for him now, too. There was no way Umbridge would let you postpone her detention for another teacher’s.

“Are you really upset about _detention_?” Fred sounded like he was resisting the urge to laugh and failing. “Is it your time of the–”

“I’m going to Potions. You guys better come, too, or you’ll have another detention from Snape and we already have two more for Umbridge.” You stood up and swung your bag over your shoulder a little too forcefully.

Neither Fred nor George stood up. Their eyes flicked toward each other and then away again.

“What?” you asked, working to keep the shrill note out of your voice. “What now?”

“We’re not going to Potions today.”

“Of course you’re going to potions. Snape said if you skipped another he’d visit Dumbledore in person to talk about expelling you.”

“Some things are more important,” Fred said gravely, but he and George got to their feet.

“Like what?” Your blood ran cold. “Please don’t be planning anything. We’re already in so much trouble.”

“What’s life without a little trouble?” Fred asked.

“Exactly. I always say my day doesn’t feel quite complete without another detention under my belt.” George glowered toward the entrance hall. “Especially now that we don’t have quidditch practice.”

“But–”

“No buts, [Name],” Fred said jovially, again poking your nose as he winked. “All will be revealed in time. Mother always says that patience is a virtue.”

“You should talk,” you grumbled, but were too relieved by this sudden return to their normal attitudes that you didn’t press the subject. Perhaps you celebrated a little too soon, though, because the next thing you knew, each boy had leaned in to plant a kiss on your cheek.

“See you after Potions, [Name],” they chorused, then exited the Great Hall and left you standing, quite alone, at the nearly vacant table. You didn’t wave goodbye. It was almost as if they’d modified your memory instead of kissing you, your brain had gone so blank. just about everyone had left for class when another person walked over to your side.

“What,” said Katie Bell, her voice hushed with awe, “have you done to Fred and George?”

You opened and closed your mouth several times, then answered:

“I haven’t the faintest idea.”

******

You looked for Fred and George your entire way to Potions class. You knew they’d said they wouldn’t be coming, but they’d said as much before so they could get a good scream out of you when they jumped out from behind one of the suits of armor. This suspicion only deepened when you entered the dungeons. The lack of natural light fed your expectation for a good scare. But when you made it to the classroom, neither of the twins was anywhere to be seen.

Who _was_ there to be seen in the flickering torch light was Professor Snape, and you knew from the way his lips curled unpleasantly at the sight of you that you were in serious trouble. The rest of the Gryffindors edged back at your approach, Snape’s aura warning them that today was not a good day to move farther past his bad side.

“Miss [Last Name],” he said in his soft voice. You looked back at him impassively–Fred and George may have scared you, but Severus Snape certainly did not. “I heard from Professor Umbridge this morning. What is this I hear about you delaying my detention?”

“I’m not sure, sir.” Your voice quaked with suppressed rage.

“Well, since you will be skipping out on your detention _yet again_ , I think we’ll add a day to mine. We can’t have you thinking that it’s all right to spear frog livers on unicorn horns and offer the class the toasted results, now can we?”

“No. Sir.”

“Hm…yes...” He regarded you calmly with his dark eyes. “And where _are_ your two little cohorts this morning? I assume doing something with my ingredients that they swiped last night?” You composed your face to look politely disinterested. “Nothing? Well, let’s add one more day to your detentions and ten points from Gryffindor. Next time when I ask for information, you will give it to me.”

You had to bite your lip to keep from snapping back at him. Three days of detention for what the twins had done? It wasn’t fair! Snape smirked, apparently able to tell what you were trying so hard not to say.

“And you can tell your little friends they have detention further detentions with me as well.” He looked around the hallway. Students still milled about the edges, the Gryffindors looking either nervous or upset, the Slytherins looking highly amused. “Well?” Snape snapped. “What are you all doing out here still? In!”

He whooshed into the classroom and you, as well of the rest of the class, trooped inside and settled into their various tables. Yours, of course, was empty, which only served to remind you who you were angry with. You slammed your cauldron down onto your table (losing ten more points for your House) and listened to the class lecture with your blood boiling all the while.

By the time class was over, the rest of the Gryffindors were livid, not just with Snape, but also with you. You’d lost them nearly fifty points over the course of two hours between your supposed antics with Fred and George and inability to focus while making your Draught of Living Death. The resulting flaming pudding filled the room with dark blue smoke so noxious Snape was forced to end the class fifteen minutes early.

The rest of the class could be heard chattering as they made their way to their next class, but you took the first chance you could to ditch them and head down a passage that led closer to a door you could easily slip out of to make it to Care of Magical Creatures. You didn’t think you could handle anymore of the snarky comments coming from the Slytherins.

“That vile--Fred was right. I should have given the subject up when I had the chance,” you muttered as you stuffed your quill back in your bag before rounding another dark corner. The way in front of you was pitch black, but you’d traipsed through it enough that your feet knew where they were going. For a few footsteps, it was quiet, but then:

“Normally I am right,” came a voice from behind one of the tapestries. You turned just in time to see Fred emerging from behind a particularly awful one portraying the beheading of a manticore. “But just what is it I’m right about this time?”

“What–but–“ The suddenness of his appearance had rendered you nearly speechless. “I thought you were skipping potions!”

“I did. Potions is over. You’re not being very observant today, [Name].”

“Oh, shut up.” You weren’t in the mood to be made to feel more stupid than you already did. With one last scowl at the boy, you walked briskly in the direction you’d been moving. “I have to get to Care of Magical Creatures.”

“I came to walk you there.” He fell into step beside you.

“Don’t bother.”

“[Name]? What’s wrong?”

“You’re wrong!” you said so fiercely that he took a step backward. “I’ve got four detentions today because of you and you haven’t even been around!”

“Well–yes…But we didn’t really _mean_ to do that.”

You could see the door pretending to be a wall drawing nearer. “Then what _did_ you mean to do, Fred?”

He didn’t answer this question–verbally, at least. All you knew was that one moment, you nearly had your foot out the door, and the next, Fred had grabbed the back of your cloak and tugged you back into the darkness of the dungeon. You continued to try and move forward despite this, but he was too strong for you. He let go only when he had pressed you up against the cold stone wall.

“What–” you began, but weren’t able to finish before Fred’s lips covered yours. Your eyes popped open at this, but he did not remove his mouth. What he did do was grab your hips and pull you closer.

Your automatic gasp of surprise did nothing but deepen the kiss. Sure, you got your oxygen, but you also got a tongue that was now wrestling with your own in your mouth. For one strange second, you contemplated protesting, but that was about when instinct kicked in. It was as if no time had passed between then and the moment the Beauxbatons boy had kissed you at the Yule Ball last year. With Fred’s hands still locked firmly around your waist, you lifted your own and tangled them into his hair. He moaned appreciatively at this development.

Two seconds later (or it might have been two years; it was hard to tell), Fred wrenched away. You immediately fell back against the wall, gulping for air and pressing your fingers to your mouth, hoping to find that it was still there. It was–though now rather bruised. For several seconds, the sound of heavy breathing was the only thing that filled the secret passageway. After awhile, Fred stood up and turned back to you.

“Been wanting to do that for awhile,” he said cheerfully. You nodded faintly, glad that he, at least, couldn’t see the pink patches on your cheeks. The lack of torchlight made the corridor far too dark. A thousand questions flooded your mind–What was that? Why all of a sudden? How did he get to be that good a kisser?–which made it quite impossible for you to formulate a response.

“Have fun in Care of Magical Creatures.” Fred smiled and pointed toward the wall door.

You gulped and found your voice at last. “Um…yeah…”

“And [Name]?” His face appeared dangerously close yours again. The pink patches on your face turned crimson.

“…What?”

“If you see George, tell him we have to meet to compare notes this evening.”

“…Okay.”

“Good girl.” He winked once more, patted you on the head, then walked in the opposite direction. There was a distinct spring to his step and you could have sworn you heard him whistling.

If, when you arrived at Professor Hagrid’s hut, Katie was surprised to see you ten minutes late with your uniform rumpled and your hair mussed, she was kind enough not to say.

******

You half-expected one of the twins to pop up on your way back in to the castle for lunch, but neither of them did. Katie said nothing about their obvious absence, but continued to smirk in irritating fashion all the way across the grounds. After hurriedly gulping down some steak and kidney pie, you rushed up to the Tower to clean up. If Fred and George were in Defense Against the Dark Arts, you were still hoping that Fred wouldn’t say anything about your shared kiss and a lack of evidence would certainly help things.

But they weren’t in Umbridge’s class at all, nor were they at dinner. Madam Pince hadn’t seen them all day, which wasn’t too unusual considering the twins’ lack of educational pursuits, but neither had Hermione Granger. When you asked her, all she did was frown and say:

“I hope they aren’t off testing their products on first years again.”

You hurried away before she could ask you where their new base of operations was. But Fred and George weren’t there either, and you were forced to trudge up to Umbridge’s office without them. As you did, your heart sank. Perhaps Fred was so upset by the kiss you’d shared that he no longer wanted to speak to you.

You needn’t have worried. Both boys were lounging around in front of Umbridge’s door. It was amazing the effect that just spotting them had on you. Your heart sped up and your hands began to sweat–definitely not normal. Then again, you seemed to have the same effect on them. As you appeared, they sat up a little straighter, faces brightening immediately. Thankfully you were able to get your rapidly beating heart under control before they bounded to you.

“Hello, [Name].” They grinned identically.

“Hey.”

There must have been something in your tone that betrayed your frustration (disappointment?) because Fred and George frowned at each other. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you sighed. “Just bummed about detention. My hand only just healed up from the last one. Besides, classes were no fun with you. What were you guys doing all day?”

They exchanged that infuriating look that meant they were keeping something from you.

“We were…busy,” Fred said.

“Busy doing what?”

Fred grinned. “That’s sweet, [Name]. Were you worried about me?”

“No,” you said forcefully. “But I know _you _weren’t busy this morning. _You_ decided to snog me after Potions.”__

____

____

“You did?” George raised his eyebrows. Fred smiled in response and his brother clapped him on the back. “Congratulations!”

“No, _not_ congratulations. Honestly, I don’t know what’s come over you, but if you don’t figure it out–”

“Hem, hem.”

There was no time to talk after that. Umbridge had you copying lines into your skin for the next two hours, and when finally you were released, you hastily made the excuse of homework to get yourself to the library.

But apparently not hastily enough because no sooner had you placed _A Dragon Lover’s Guide to the Care and Keeping of Dangerous Beasts_ then did George appear by your side, smirking. You tried not to sound too disgruntled when you asked him what he wanted.

“You ran off quickly tonight,” he said.

You glared at him as you started the heading to Professor Hagrid’s paper. “Yeah, well. It’s been a weird day.”

“I know, right? The weirdest part is that you’d decide to let Fred snog you and not let me have a turn.”

“I didn’t decide anything!” you hissed, distinctly aware of the fact that Madam Pince was prowling the shelves behind you. Your protest was cut shot, however, as something sunk through to your fevered brain. “Wait. Since when did you want to kiss me?”

“Oh, it’s been coming for awhile now…” George had one hand propping up his cheek and the other walking across the table to yours. “We were quite jealous when the Beauxbatons boy beat us to you.”

You stared, too stunned to notice that he’d made it to his goal and was now holding your hand as his thumb stroked the top of it.

“You’re mad,” you choked out. “Absolutely mad. You and Fred finally invented something that drove you out of your mind.”

“That’s not very flattering toward you now, is it? Rather disappointing. Fred and I find you very pretty.”

“You’ve never found me pretty and you know it,” you said as you tugged your hand from his grasp. But the words came out as a whisper. You’d long since given up on either of the twins ever falling for you. This was just great–a miserable end to an altogether miserable day. You stared into your lap and tried to remember what the subject of your essay was supposed to be. Something about chimeras, that was all you knew.

“Let me prove it to you,” George’s voice ghosted in your ear and then his lips met your ear. You stiffened but surprised yourself by not pushing him away. When he did not receive the response that he wanted, George began to trail kisses down your neck.

“Stop,” you breathed. He ignored you. “Stop.”

This time he did as you asked, but when you turned your head to look at him, his face was right there. You swallowed whatever words you had been planning to say.

“I don’t think you want me to.”

And then his lips were against yours. Whether it was due to the rather strong sense of déjà vu you were feeling or the general romantic atmosphere the library’s candlelight seemed to inspire in people, you reacted immediately. Your arms went around his neck and George stood, stooping still so that he could continue working his lips against yours. You groaned as his fingers found the edge of your shirt and began to sneak up your stomach.

“What are you doing?!”

The private moment was rudely interrupted when Madam Pince swooped down from above and began beating the pair of you over the head with an enormous book of spells. She did not listen to your stammered excuses (this was fair; you would not have either) and continued to shriek as you attempted to grab each of your things from the table before she rushed you out.

“This! Is! A! Library!” she screamed. “Never–in all my years–Out! OUT!”

She threw George’s book bag out unceremoniously after you with one last wordless cry of rage. It hit you squarely in the head, knocking you to the ground and sending ink bottles, quills, and brightly colored Nosebleed Nougats in every direction.

“Oww…” you moaned from the dusty floor. Something above your eye was stinging very, very badly.

“[Name]! Are you okay?” George was ignoring his scattered belongings entirely. He kneeled down to get a better look at you, and a moment later you wished he hadn’t. His face went white. “You’re bleeding!”

“I am?” Dazedly, you lifted one palm to your forehead. It came away crimson.

George did not answer; he was too busy scrambling through the wreckage around you. When he emerged, he was holding what you recognized to be one of his fake wands. It was now instead a handsome replica of Gryffindor’s sword.

“We should get you to the Hospital Wing.”

“No…I’m fine. I need to finish my homework…more detentions tomorrow…” You were finding it somewhat difficult to maintain your concentration on the conversation.

“Hospital Wing, [Name]. Now. Madam Pomfrey will fix you up right away and you can get back to your paper.”

He sounded so firm that you couldn’t find it in yourself to argue. You waited quietly as he gathered his things and then allowed him to heave you to your feet. You were halfway to the Hospital Wing when it happened.

George froze, mid-step, and nearly caused you to fall crashing down the stairs.

“George?” you asked weakly. “What’s wrong?”

“I–I need to get back to the common room.”

“Now?”

“Yes. Right now.”

“But–”

“You can make it the rest of the way yourself, can’t you?” He did not wait for an answer. Before you could protest, George ducked underneath your arm and raced back down the way you came. It was several minutes before you could gather your thoughts and remember what you were supposed to be doing.

“…Sure. Why not?”

Odd, how often you spoke to thin air when the twins weren't around.

******

You arrived in the common room an hour later, after having downed a blood replenisher potion and had Madam Pomfrey heal up your cut. Though you really hadn’t, at this point, expected them to be, your stomach still felt queasy when you noticed that Fred and George were not in their usual corner. It was still early enough in the evening that the common room was abuzz with laughter and conversation, but none of them came from the twins. Even Hermione Granger had gone, apparently feeling she didn’t have to stay up late that night to keep the two of them under control.

“[Name]?” Katie trotted up, looking absolutely aghast. “What happened to you? I thought we were supposed to work on our papers together!”

“Just a cut,” you muttered as you poked the bandage still tied firmly across your eyebrow. “Honestly, this is the least of what has happened to me today. Sorry about skipping out on you. I was trying to avoid…someone.”

”Did it work?” You shook your head. Katie pursed her lips together and guided you over to one of the armchairs near the cheerily crackling fire. “But it can’t have all be bad, can it?”

“What do you mean?” You settled into your chair and glanced halfheartedly at your bag. You really didn’t think you had it in you to do anymore homework that night.

“Well…” Katie leaned in, a conspiratorial gleam in her eye. “Fred and George have been awfully friendly today, haven’t they?”

“Yeah, well, they’re evil, aren’t they?” You scowled at the carpet. The stain from George’s first attempt at the Puking Pastilles was still evident in the thread.

“You can’t really think that. They’re your best friends!”

“I don’t think they are anymore, Katie,” you said heavily. “Not after today.”

“What happened? Did they…did one of them kiss you?”

You winced. There was really no harm in telling Katie. She’d always been able to keep your secrets. Still, if the twins were so ashamed they’d kissed you, it probably wasn’t a good idea to spread it around. It was an especially bad idea to tell one of their quidditch teammates. If Umbridge ever left, you’d hate for them to be laughingstock of the team. At last you gave her a hesitant nod, deciding that Katie would be more amused with you than them. “Both, actually.”

“I knew it!” she squealed, then dropped her voice to a whisper. “All the girls have been wondering how you did it. It was so sudden! Most of them think it was a love potion.”

“As if I’d ever…” you trailed off. A stream of images was running through your mind: a trembling first year, a pink potion, your sudden dismissal last night and George’s instance that you could still be of help, though he never did tell you how. You stood up quite suddenly. “That’s it! A love potion!”

“You mean you really gave them one? But I–”

“No, not me.” Your voice trembled with anger. “Them.”

You marched toward the boys’ stairs without another word. Katie called after you.

“Wait! Where are you going?”

“I’ll be back later, Katie,” you said as you wrenched the door open and started to stomp up the stairs. You slammed the door to the boys’ dormitory open so hard that the walls shook. Several of Lee’s quidditch posters tore from the walls and drifted gently to the floor. You ignored this entirely; the blood was rushing through your ears so loudly that you could not hear anything but your own in frenzied thoughts.

Fred and George looked horror-struck. They were sitting again by their cauldron, dozens upon dozens of papers laying in piles around them, but they were paying them no heed. Their pale faces were trained directly on you as, breathing heavily, you strode toward them.

“Oh, hello, [Name],” George said in a would-be-causal voice. “What can we help you with?”

“If it’s nothing,” Fred added, “We’ll talk to you in the morning. We’re sort of in the middle of some–”

You interrupted him by ripping his parchment from his hands.

“You gave me a love potion!” you shouted. Both boys jumped backward, an impressive feat considering they were sitting down. “You gave me a love potion and you’ve been using me as an experiment all day long!”

Fred and George looked at each other. For one second, they simply stared. Then, as if on cue, they burst into fits of laughter.

“It isn’t funny!” you roared over their guffawing. “I’ve never been more embarrassed! Kissing George in the library–I won’t be allowed in there until after we’ve graduated!”

“Embarrassed!” Fred stopped rolling on the ground and looked indignant. “How could you be? We didn’t give you any love potion!”

“Yes, you did! The proof is right there!” You gestured wildly at what was left of the pearl pink potion sitting in the cauldron. Only a few cold dregs clung to the pewter now.

“We didn’t give you a love potion!” George said.

“We gave it to ourselves,” said Fred.

“Then why did I kiss you?” you demanded. “Why did I suddenly feel all nervous around the two of you? Why did I spend all day wishing you were around?”

“That’s not _our_ fault. We asked you last night if the potion smelled a certain way to you. You said it didn’t, and so we decided to test it. We had to make sure we could make the potion properly before we started marketing it.”

“So you _did_ test it on me!”

“Of course not! We wouldn’t want to embarrass you by making you fall in love with someone ridiculous.”

“Like Ron,” George said darkly. “We would never be able to forgive ourselves.”

“Then–”

”If you’d been paying any attention at all, [Name], you would know that Amortentia smells differently to everyone, according to what attracts them,” said Fred.

“Wait…it didn’t smell any different in here at all last night,” you said slowly. George motioned for you to get a move on. “But then…” You gaped at them. Fred nodded.

“You were already in love with us. That’s how we knew it wouldn’t upset you horribly if we started showing an interest.”

“But then…why were you so late coming to breakfast?” you asked. “You seemed fine for part of it.”

“We added some glumbumble essence, you know. To slow the effects. Casts less suspicion on the user,” George answered.

“Seems to make it a tad strong, though.” Fred shook his head as if trying to clear it. “We might have to rethink that.”

“And you said you did something for me,” you said. “If it wasn’t making me fall hopelessly in love with you, what was it? I’m not getting detention for that–you can just go do my second for me.”

“Well…” Fred looked at George, who nodded. Both crept up to you.

“Well, what?” you asked crossly. Your relief that you hadn’t been potion-ed had now faded away to annoyance about being tricked. “I don’t want any Puking Pastilles, so if that was all, you can just stop now.”

“That’s not it at all,” George said. “Remember when we asked you to Hogsmeade this morning?”

“Distinctly. Thank you so much for making fun me.”

“[Name], you dolt!” Fred said. “We were trying to ask you out! _That’s_ what we did for you. We took the potion and got over our nerves so we could! We’ve been trying ever since that boy asked you to ball last year.”

“As nice as that is, I don’t really want to date anyone that is being forced to like me. Thanks bunches, though.”

“[Name], do you even know what that potion smells like to us?”

“Gun powder?” A testy note had grown in your voice. It was late; all you wanted to do was go to bed and forget this day ever happened. As if the twins would ever stop talking about it. “Whatever it is you’ve decided to put in your Skiving Snack Boxes?”

“Close,” said George. He looked to Fred, who continued in a much softer voice:

“But it also smells like you.”

“We actually do like you, [Name],” George said. “A lot.”

“What?” You looked from one to the other. You had never seen them so solemn. “Really?”

“I don’t think she believes us, George.”

“Then I think we’ll have to convince her, Fred.”

They stepped toward you, each taking a hand. “No, wait!” Your protest was stillborn. They tugged you onto their bed. With one wave of a wand, the curtains drew shut and both Fred and George had latched on to your neck.

Twenty minutes later and you were quite certain Amortentia had ever been used to quite as wonderful a purpose ever before. But something was still bothering you:

“But wait…if you were already in love with me, how do you know if the potion actually works?”

“Oh don’t worry about that,” George answered. “We thought of a plan ages ago.”

“…Are you sure I shouldn’t be worried?”

“Of course,” Fred said. “After all, it’s about time our dear little brother noticed a certain Miss Lavender Brown…”


End file.
